


chamomile and truth on my tongue

by Fanhag102



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Gen, I JUST HAVE A LOT OF BRUCE BANNER FEELS OKAY, No shipping (slight stony if you squint), angsty Bruce, mama Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 17:30:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/652708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanhag102/pseuds/Fanhag102
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce and Steve have a conversation in which things are shared, and it's nice. </p><p>(I just have a lot of Bruce Banner feelings)</p>
            </blockquote>





	chamomile and truth on my tongue

**Author's Note:**

> Found this random thing I wrote forever ago on tumblr and thought hey, sure, why not post it here? So I am.

Bruce Banner marched wearily up the stair from Tony’s lab. They had been down there for hours and although Tony didn’t seem anywhere near finished, Bruce didn’t seem to have the same constitution. He needed breaks, at least. Of course, when he’d tried telling Tony that the billionaire had laughed in his face and said something about time being money and breaks being for the weak. Bruce didn’t really mind being weak if it meant he could go make himself a nice, soothing cup of tea before he crashed onto the bed Tony had bought for him—the nicest bed he’d ever had, honestly. 

From the bottom of the stairs he heard the sudden explosion of what some might call music, and Bruce felt reassured that Tony didn’t really mind being left to his own devices for a little bit while he recuperated. He was almost at the top of the stairs, his eyes glued to his dragging feet, when he found an obstacle in his path that he promptly bumped his head against. 

“Oh, geez, Bruce, I’m so sorry!” Steve gushed, actively steadying Bruce by grabbing ahold of his shoulders before he tumbled backwards down the stairs. 

“Sorry, Steve,” replied Bruce, adjusting his glasses in place on his nose then looking up to smile gently at the larger man whose blond brow was creased in a worried frown. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.” 

“Neither was I, so this is at least half my fault. Is Tony still down there?” 

“Yeah. He seems to be in the middle of something very important. I was just coming up to take a break. Maybe get some sleep.” 

Steve’s frown deepened. 

“He needs to take a break too. He’s been down there for days, I knew he hasn’t eaten anything and—”

“Woah, woah, Mother Rogers, slow down. He ate a bagel just a little while ago, I saw him. And judging from the numbers he’d been getting the last time I checked, he’s probably less than a day away from reaching a stopping point with this new project. Think you can leave him alone until he finishes?” 

Steve’s expression softened in an instant and then he looked a little ashamed for having gotten so worked up. He took a step back and allowed Bruce to exit the stairwell. 

“Uh, yeah, I think I can manage that. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” Bruce replied with a soft smile. “I worry about him too, though I don’t think I come anywhere close to you on that front.” 

Bruce made his way through one of the Stark tower living rooms that opened up into the kitchen. Steve followed him and replied as Bruce pressed a button to heat some water for his tea,

“He gets so wrapped up in those projects, and it’s not like I can help. I’m not like you Bruce, I don’t know a thing about all that math and science stuff you guys do.” 

Bruce sighed heavily, exhaustion deep in every bone and muscle. He placed his elbows on the edge of the kitchen counter so he could rest his chin on his hands. Maybe it was the coffee, but Bruce was never able to keep up with Tony’s long hours and seemingly unwavering enthusiasm.

“To be totally honest, Steve,” Bruce paused to yawn, then continued, “I can’t keep up with Tony a whole lot better than anyone else can.”

“At least you know what he’s talking about.” 

Bruce shrugged; it took more effort than it usually did. 

“Most of the time, yeah, but there are other times when he goes places I never even dream about going. Until all this Avengers business I really wasn’t thinking too much about improving the world through science.” 

He stared darkly at the marble counters before him. His weariness seemed to be making him even more depressed than usual. He was thinking about things he tried his best not to dwell on; he’d been doing well ever since moving into the Avengers tower. Still, every now and again his mind went a little dark, and he remembered things he wished he could forget.

“I figured i’d done enough,” he muttered lowly, unable to avoid the sudden serious tension that filled the room. He tried to lighten it by smiling up at Steve, but it didn’t appear to work. 

“You were improving the world, Bruce,” Steve replied kindly. “You were healing the sick and helping those less fortunate. That kind of thing is underrated, even though it’s usually a whole lot more helpful than going out and smashing some robots to pieces every other weekend.” 

Bruce gave another try at a smile and this time it worked a little better. It was hard not to smile when Steve got all “Captain America” on you like that. It was still hard to believe he was real sometimes. Bruce ran a hand through his messy, unkept hair, pulling open the drawer full of the most expensive teas Tony could buy (“Why wouldn’t I spend money on you, Banner, you’re my friend?”) and picking out one bag of his favorite. 

“I suppose so,” Bruce agreed, moving across the kitchen to grab his Hulk mug (Tony had gotten coffee mugs made with each of the Avengers faces. No one had found this nearly as amusing as he had). He dropped the tea bag inside and returned to leaning against the countertop while waiting for his water to boil. 

Steve was leaning against the opposite counter, his eyes careful as he regarded Bruce solemnly. Bruce heaved another tired sigh.

“I used to be more like Tony, I think,” he conceded lamely. He glanced at Steve from underneath his glasses and added, “before the accident.” Just then, his water came to a boil and he moved around the kitchen to pour it into his mug, speaking to Steve as he did.

“I was—I don’t know, optimistic, I suppose. Aren’t all young scientists? I thought I was going to change the world. Find a cure for cancer, increase life-expectancy, those kinds of noble, magnanimous type things. Of course, I had no idea I was just doing the army’s science experiments for them. I didn’t know what they  _really_ wanted to use the serum for.”

Steve gave a shallow intake of breath here as Bruce’s tea steeped in the steaming mug.

“I was an idiot. An optimistic idiot—and see where it got me?” he fetched a spoon from the silverware drawer and dunked the floating tea bag a few times, painfully aware of the silence surrounding him and Steve’s careful gaze from across the room. 

“After that… Everything seemed a little less important, you know? Every good intention I had going into the serum experiment turned against me. It made me realize that sometimes when scientists try to help they can wind up doing more hurting. Like the people who work at disease laboratories? Their intentions are pure, I’m sure, but who’s to say they won’t accidentally release some deadly plague upon humanity?”

He closed his eyes tightly; he was more tired than he thought, now he was rambling.

“It’s hard to be enthusiastic about something when you have doubts like that, is all. Tony’s inventions are amazing, the technology is beyond anything I thought possible in this lifetime, but I still worry. How much is too much? My point is: I may be able to understand what he’s talking about, Steve, but that doesn’t mean I can handle Tony and his projects any better than you can.” 

It was quiet. As quiet as it ever was in Tony Stark’s home, the constant buss and whir of electricity through the wires in the walls comforting, though it had taken a little while to get used to. Bruce cup was still steaming hot and it remained quiet as he waited drowsily for it to cool. Steve was very good at being silent; not like Natasha, but still loads better than Bruce would ever be. He wondered what had possessed him to bring up this depressing topic in the first place. 

“Bruce,” Steve finally said, and Bruce gratefully looked up at him. The super soldier was looking down, obviously conflicted; his fists clenching and unclenching before he continued hesitantly, “I—you aren’t going to want to hear this, but I feel like I need to… apologize.” 

Bruce frowned, placing his mug gently on the counter as Steve looked at him almost like he was worried he might Hulk-out if he continued. 

“What could you possibly have to apologize for, Steve?”

“I know it wasn’t my fault, I do, but I feel as though I deserve some of the blame for your… accident. You were trying to replicate  _my_  serum when you—”

“Stop right there, Steve,” Bruce held a hand as though he could physically hold back Steve’s words. They were preposterous, of course, and Bruce understood why Steve had been so hesitant to speak them. He shouldn’t have been surprised though; Steve was the kind of man who blamed himself for the smallest of things, things he had absolutely no affect on. Bruce was pretty sure Steve somehow blamed himself for world hunger and poverty, he just never told anyone because he knew the reaction he would get. 

“I know it’s a stretch, Bruce, but—”

“It’s way more than a stretch,” Bruce cut him off again, voice firm. Sometimes Steve seemed younger than his 90 years and, although Steve was very good at playing mother for Tony, sometimes Bruce had to play Father to the both of them. “If you know its ridiculous, why are you apologizing? Look, there are a lot of people to blame for my accident, myself included. I’m probably at the top of that list, in fact. You are not even  _on_  the list, Steve. You aren’t anywhere near the list. So do not blame yourself, and if you ever try to apologize for something that isn’t your fault again I will personally smack you across your thick skull, and I cannot guarantee I won’t be green when I do.” 

Steve clearly thought about arguing, but something must have convinced him not to because he just smiled apologetically and allowed Bruce to take a tiny sip of his still hot tea. 

“Sorry, Bruce. I just don’t like to see my friends beating themselves up the way you were a little while ago.” 

“Neither do I,” Bruce replied primly. “So I guess we can call it even.” 

They shared a few more friendly smiles then silence overcame again. But apparently, Bruce wasn’t finished divulging information this afternoon, as his brain thought up something else to share with Steve as he appraised the taller man over his cup of tea. 

“They’ve got it figured out, you know.” 

As predicted from such a vague sentence, Steve replied with a questioning tilt of his head. Bruce took another sip of tea, quickly enough to scald his tongue. A part of him remembered a time when that would have been enough for him to change into the Other Guy. He didn’t always have the control he had now; it was almost nice to think about the progress he’d made, though there were times when he woke up in strange places, unable to remember the past 24 hours when it felt like he hadn’t made any at all. 

“The serum. Erskine’s super soldier serum. The United States military has a serum close enough to Erskines original that it can create genetically advanced humans. I’ve seen what it produces; enhanced speed, strength, agility, healing factors far beyond that of an average human.”

As Bruce explained, Steve’s eyes grew wide, confusion and worry lacing his features. 

“But, I don’t, how? Why aren’t there a ton of soldiers out there that have gone through the same process I did?”

Bruce nodded, understanding his confusion. 

“None of the tests they’ve managed to run have… worked out the way they wanted. They think something is still wrong with the serum. It’d hard for them to find volunteers to test anymore, and they don’t want to risk giving a dangerous substance to more people.”

“So,” Steve was still frowning, contemplating this information. “It has side effects? It still isn’t as good as Erskine’s original formula?” 

Bruce paused, mug of tea pressed to his lips lightly. He took a sip and sighed. 

“I honestly don’t know, Steve. I don’t know if something’s wrong with the formula or if there are other variables that might be the cause for the test to turn sour. If I had to guess I think it has to do less with the serum and more with their test subjects. No matter how many people they try, it never turns out the way they want because they simply aren’t testing it on the right people.” 

Something flashed through Steve’s eyes and Bruce though he was catching on to what Bruce was trying to say. His sharp features softened and he smiled at Bruce. Bruce took one last sip of tea and said lightly,

“They’ve never managed to find another Captain America, and I sincerely doubt they ever will. You’re one of a kind, Steve.” 

Steve took the compliment graciously, to which Bruce was glad. He drained the last of his tea and dump the bag into the trash, dropping the mug into the sink. He usually put in an effort to wash his dishes right away, but he was too tired; he might accidentally wash it with mayonnaise if he tried. 

“Bruce,” Steve began softly, and Bruce turned to him on his way towards the stairs that led down to his room. 

“Just because you have doubts about the science you and Tony do… doesn’t mean it isn’t worth it. You are helpful in more ways than one. You’re smart, strong when we need you to be, kind when we need you to be kind, and you’re a good friend. Not just to Tony, but to every Avenger. The team wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Bruce, tired as he was, felt his mood pick up. He smiled, nodding sleepily to show Steve that he’d heard, that he appreciated everything Steve was trying to tell him. It felt good, nice even, to know that when he made it to his bed and finally got to sleep, his dreams would be good ones, full of smiling, familiar faces. It had been a long time since Bruce had had dreams like that, and he was wholly looking forward to it. 

He was even looking forward to seeing what Tony would probably finish while he was dreaming.


End file.
